


Learning to Fly

by BiP



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiP/pseuds/BiP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Huh, I can write SPN without Dean! Written for 2012 spnspringfling. Prompt was <i>it's time to fly</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Fly

It’s not really memories of Hell that make Sam still in his constant movement, staring off at something no one else can see, head tilted and listening. Lucifer didn't sing in Hell. Here, topside, he won't stop singing. He won't shut up at all, in fact. Sam is now intimately familiar with songs about Heaven, or Hell, or deals with devils. He used to like the Talking Heads one, a lifetime ago. He wonders if there really are no songs about Purgatory, of if they just make Lucifer nervous, but he’s not willing to ask.

When Lucifer’s not singing, he's trying to make deals with Sam. "Hey, Sammy. Hey! You're listening, right? Tell you what, if you ditch your keepers here and take a dive from the roof of this dump, I'll - "

"You're lying."

"Sammy. Have I ever lied to you? I’m right here with you, buddy. I know how much you hate the sound of my voice. Just take that step, and I promise, I’ll be quiet.”

Sam is equal parts horrified and tempted. Quiet seems so impossible now. And he know, he knows that while Lucifer hasn’t ever lied to him, he’ll do anything at all to twist his words and his promises. Sam wonders if he was ever smart enough to win at this game.

But there’s still enough of Sam Winchester: Stanford Law left in him to try.

“For how long? How long will you be quiet?”

Lucifer laughs, delighted. “Hmm. Let’s say, as long as you can stay in the air.”

Sam shakes his head. “No way. At least a month. No singing, no talking, no sounds, no noises, nothing.”

It’s Lucifer’s turn to balk. “Even an angel’s got to make noise sometime, Sammy. A laugh, a sigh of pleasure, a belch? These things are involuntary.”

“You don’t eat, there’s no gas to pass. And you’re equivocating.” Sam is proud of himself for remembering the lingo.

“You drive a hard bargain. Let’s say, as long as you stay on this earth, I’ll stay quiet. Once you’re on my turf, all deals are off. I win.”

Sam knows damned well there’s something wrong with the logic here, but the fact that while Lucifer is talking, he’s also humming Stairway to Heaven and singing Hell is for Children, and the constant cacophony is making it harder and harder for Sam to think about anything but the promise of silence. The defense would like so very much to rest, if it please the Universe.

Lucifer knows when the bet is on. Sam is grateful he doesn’t demand a kiss to seal the bargain.

 

 

It’s surprisingly easy to slip away between group (where he never says anything, just listens to Lucifer’s running commentary on everyone else’s issues) and common room time. The stairs to the roof are open, inviting, unblocked, too easy, and Sam just doesn’t have the energy to care.

“You first,” Sam insists. There is no hesitation – only some excitement, a buzz under his skin of the peace to come.

“As you wish,” Lucifer says, and stops humming Highway to Hell. “Your turn, Sammy. Time to fly.” He sounds almost – almost loving.

Sam steps off into the blissful silence, only the wind in his ears. 


End file.
